Conscious Communication - Choosing Quality over Quantity

I’m going to say it. I miss the phone. 

Not the new computer-in-our-pockets masquerading as a phone that we have now, but a real, old-fashioned (ouch), fits-perfectly-on-your-ears phone. 

Corded or cordless. It was the way I would talk to friends and family for hours. Even my first job, it was how I got to know my colleagues around the country and in England from my office in Times Square. 

Communication during COVID-19

I miss in-person communication too. Surviving COVID in 2020 with a high-risk child has introverted my introvert. I understand the emotional fatigue. If it were just me that I was responsible for, or if he didn’t need to be quite so protected, maybe I would have been out more over the summer. Maybe. 

But what it has done has made me appreciate the time I get to spend connecting with other humans. And, as has been discussed, there is something that Zoom or Facetime lacks. 

Connection in Motion

But also, maybe there is something about how we’ve been socializing up to this point that wasn’t working even before COVID. Jay & Mark Duplass called this out in such a relatable way on a recent podcast episode of Unlocking Us with Brene Brown. They shared that they consciously go on hikes when they have something they really need to work out in conversation. And they talked through how humans did most of their communicating before technology by holding discussions while actively working side-by-side. I pulled this from the podcast transcript:

“Jay Duplass: "...we love socializing in the process of making a film because it is parallel ... we’re all looking forward towards this other thing, and we are relating to each other and we’re talking about the biggest things in life and the scariest things, but we’re not doing it in a one-on-one, face-to-face conversation. And I think it actually mimics human evolution. I think it mimics the way… We didn’t go to cocktail parties back in the day. We were gathering food.

We were painting things, we were making clothes, we were doing tasks together. There wasn’t a lot of eye contact. There was a lot of talking going on, a lot of people in groups figuring things out together. And when you think about it that way, the level of intimacy you can achieve in that and also just community that you can achieve in an environment like that.

Mark Duplass: When you talk to people who have hiked the Pacific Crest Trail, the Appalachian Trail, and those trail buddies, and what they achieved by all that silent time together next to each other, and that’s ... really special.”

Wow, did that strike me. Maybe because I struggle with “small talk”. I find it hard to sit still (or stand) and just talk, in person at least. And my interactions during COVID have all been socially distanced outdoor activities with a handful of local families that we have chosen to band together for our children’s social welfare. 

So we’ve been walking, and talking, and parenting-in-motion. And the level of connection in these conversations has found a way to soothe my soul. 

Quality vs. Quantity

Yes, there is less interaction than I would like. I miss so many people that are important to me and may live further away, but the quantity of conversations in the “before” has been exchanged for this new consistent quality. And maybe it’s even more simple in that I am in a state of appreciation for these moments, but I don’t feel that to be a complete picture (though it definitely helps!) 

A few years ago, I heard a story that depression among women in a close-knit community skyrocketed when washing machines were made available to them. And it was credited because the opportunity for women to gather together in this shared, very often hated, task ended. (Side note: I went looking for the source of this story, and it was credited to Brene Brown - a funny coincidence, but I couldn’t find it in her words. It did appear in a Facebook post on the page - Sister, I Am With You - by writers and moms, Amy Weatherly and Jess Johnston. You can find the post here.) 

I think the reason the story, whether it’s real or not, resonates is because of the loneliness that is pervasive among modern women. Women who have washing machines to make laundry easier, sure, but now it was a solo activity. And, as any person over the age of 18 may know, one that is endless. There is always more washing to be done. 

But these conversations, the ones that happened when hands were busy, I imagine they made the tasks feel different. 

I know, for me, the best conversations (and friends) came out of time spent working on projects in high school and college. Working side-by-side in a studio or a theater, on a deadline that seems impossible to meet (yet always gets done) makes for soul-level conversation. Perhaps that is why I resonated with the Duplass brother’s assessment so much. There is just something about a 2 AM discussion on set, exhausted and running on adrenaline, that forces through any fakeness. Out of necessity, vulnerability is almost a given. 

Relating as Adults

I struggled to find that in my adult life. The corporate structure, even in the entertainment and creative fields, isn’t set up that way. Dating, even less so. Another quote from the podcast interview with the Duplass brothers summarized that for me in a way I have been afraid to admit to myself all these years: 

Jay Duplass: "Is that I think our whole system of going to parties, this whole thing where you stand up at a cocktail party and you hold a drink and you look at other people and you have conversations, is a [bleeping] nightmare.

There are maybe 5% of people who are just pure extroverts, who just eat it up. We all know a couple of those people. Everyone else is on some scale of nightmare, to absolute nightmare, to “I would do anything to avoid this moment”."

I laughed out loud when I heard it! I thought I was the only one who felt that way. Who knew that I wasn’t alone in this?

Recently that hit me again as I was sitting by a river with our little social group. I had envisioned, in the probably-not-real, popular culture story myth of woman and washing machines, as women churning clothes in a river. In reality, there were probably some generations between river washings and machine washing, but the power of stories made this connection so strong as images in my head. So, actually sitting by a river made me think of this and appreciate being back with a tiny village. 

As we, the adults, tried to chat, mindful of big topics and little ears. While at the same time helping each other’s children with untied shoes and finding the perfect rocks for skipping. And mediating conflict, mostly by letting them work it out as pseudo-siblings. Having the illusion of perfect children goes out the window when you spend this much unstructured time outside together. But, again, isn’t that the lesson, for all ages? 

Cultivating Quality Communication when we are Apart 

Back to the phone, as the weather gets colder here in the northeast and COVID gets worse, how can we still have these connection points without exposing the most vulnerable of us? How do we still do the quality of communicating while outside hiking or working side-by-side, when we couldn’t be together? 

That is when this moment of nostalgia for the memory of lying on a bed, clutching a “real” phone, talking to friends for hours struck me. Together apart. Maybe it was rose-colored because I didn’t have the same responsibilities back then, but I think it has something to do with the quantity vs. quality conversation that in-person time had become. That kind of phone was only available in the house, and texting or having another device to talk to someone else at the same time wasn’t possible. And you could communicate without the nuances of in-person (or video call) eye contact/body language. Things that can get so, so lost in translation. 

For me, all of this introspection has helped me to see that in the after (for there will be an after), I’m going to look for the quality of conversation over quantity. And, since those smartphones aren’t going anywhere (and I got rid of a house phone years ago with no intention to replace it), looking to connect in the now, with the technologies that are here. 

This may mean making choices of how to use the communication technology. Trying to keep the same appreciations I am cultivating now front of mind. The memories of those endless old-school phone calls, or the heart-to-hearts that happened during shared work tasks when I was younger. Or, more recently, alongside each other on a walk outside. 

I’m going to strive to replace constant hypervigilance of waiting for things to go wrong with consistent awareness of practicing. Practicing listening to my body and my emotions and communicating in ways that feed my soul. 

The best part is that outside exists everywhere - city or suburb or country. And meeting to go for a walk (with masks and dressed appropriately for the weather) can happen even now, in the during. And maybe, it will be a conversation you remember for many years to come.